


My Happiest Place (is the spot right next to you.)

by Moonlight_sonata



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Multiverse, Rating May Change, Time Travel Fix-It, but not really time travel in their world, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21897946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_sonata/pseuds/Moonlight_sonata
Summary: "I'll give you your happiest place, Steve."Steve Harrington's given a chance to live another life. And Billy? Billy gets an opportunity to have something worth living for.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	1. Live fast, die young

Billy’s a live fast, die young, type of guy. 

He drives the Camaro like a maniac. Drinks booze like it's a whole new brand of bottled water (piss water is a more suitable name, actually.) Smokes cheap cigarettes one after another despite the warnings of how it could possibly be bad for your health if done in many a day, because, well, fuck that.

Basically, he lives without precautions. No self-preservation whatsoever. Not even with the fact that he lives with a monster under the same roof. 

It's stupid. He knows it is, but it's too tiring to care. 

He used to care, used to know what self-care or whatever bullshit they call it, before, back when his mother was there. Back when Billy knows what love feels like, at least, how it should feel like until it all went downhill because all of it was a lie. 

Billy should've seen it. But, in his defense, he was a kid back then. A dumb, innocent kid caught in the crossfire of his parents' shitty relationship. 

His mother's love was similar to those family-oriented movies. He gets goodbye kisses on the forehead, gets his lunchbox made every school day, gets storytelling times before sleep. 

It's honestly sweet, thinking back then, even though everything was artificial.

What Billy loves most was when he's upset and his mom would talk to him tenderly, lovingly. She'd have those warm gaze and comforting hands on his shoulders.

She'd tell little William, _You're my sunshine, honey,_ then she'd kiss his forehead.

So it became a question after why she left him behind. Billy questioned it then, sometimes even now, especially when Neil hits him. 

The most after Neil nearly killed him.

Still, Billy could only theorize, never gets the real answer because only his mother could give that. 

Every speculating only leaves him with the stinging betrayal and affection he's still nesting in his chest. And memories of her warm, loving gaze that only re-ignites the pain.

Her soft, blue eyes, always tenderly gazing at him was what Billy used to equate as unconditional love. Her vast, possibly unending love and patience that's either fake or simply just got tired.

It's easier to assume it's all fake. It hurts less. 

Because if it was real then why was it so easy to leave him? Why so sudden? Why did she disappear without sweeping little William away? 

Was it because Billy's only worth the love and hope when he's paired with Neil Hargrove? And since she's leaving Neil behind, there's no use of him anymore? 

She doesn't need to pour hope and misplace it on him anymore? 

Did she think that Billy's enough to change Neil?

Because if that's it, then he wasn't.

_Never was, never will._

Billy's only a patchwork of bruises and burned ego.

Neil didn't change, probably never will as well.

They're father and son, after all.

Billy hopes that when they die he meets him in hell. He'll have a great time laughing at him for thinking that going to church every Sunday is going to absolve him of his sins. He hopes to meet his mom there too. Because she's a liar for making him believe that she loves him. She's much more of a monster than Neil for letting him believe that he's worth the love before crushing his poor little heart when she left without so much as even saying goodbye.

His family's fucked him up, and it's easily the reason why he doesn't care if he dies young. His family's given him the harsh truth that there's nothing that merits the want to live long.

Billy will just ride the high of being reckless. That way he gets his fun. That way he gets to die from his own doing. Not from Neil, not from that bastard of a father. Not from anyone but himself.

_No one's ever been willing to put him first anyway, not even himself._

* * *

But then, out of nowhere, in the most unsuspecting, bizarre way; Billy gets his catalyst to change. 

It was on a date night. He was getting ready to leave, all ready for a date that would get his dick wet later. 

Of course, Neil, the bastard who simply loves to remind Billy that he's an unredeemable piece of shit, goes apeshit on him again just as he was leaving. He corners him into submitting, like always, to do something he doesn't want.

_'Respect and Responsibility.’_

Like that’s something that Billy applies to himself.

He wanted to scoff at his father, snark out, say words along the lines of _I can’t even do that to myself, and you want me to give it to some pipsqueak bitch?_ or _I'_ _m not his Goddamn brother, nor could I give a damn fuckin’ care._

Some unconditional love, is that what Neil wants from Billy? Like it’s so easy to find and give? Like it even exists?

The memory of his mother pops up, and it inflicts worse damage than Neil's recent shove and slap with Susan Mayfield standing by without doing shit. 

Billy’s known and grown in a field of hate, ignorance, and violence. But he used to see the greener side before it turns out to be nothing but a heap of lies. 

Once more it hurts when it shouldn't. 

He had practiced this already. To not hurt, to be unaffected, to be indifferent about this goddamn lie-of-a-love that felt so fucking real, it haunts him to this day. 

The vulnerability he feels angers him to the point he wants to lash out. He slams his hand on the wall and it didn't dissipate anything. In fact, all it will do is most likely get Neil to come back. 

Neil's reappearance would only pour more gasoline on his piling ire. 

Billy shoves his palms on his face, recollecting a bit of control against his spiraling thoughts of needing to destroy something to bring his composture back. 

But still, the desire to do something brash and stupid lingers. He wants to pick a fight, only so it could release all the pent up frustration that’s boiling and overspilling. If he's not getting his dick wet tonight, might as well kick some ass to compensate.

He leaves the Hargrove-Mayfield house like a ticking bomb, ready and excited to explode at even the tiniest trigger. 

* * *

  
  
  


Steve Harrington is the trigger. Stupid fucking Harrington doesn’t know self-preservation like Billy, and he's always so sure of himself, thinking he’s the shit when Billy knows that Harrington has been nothing but a bitch for a while pre and post-Wheeler. It's funny, and absolutely infuriating how he's acting smooth, lying to Billy about his step-sister. 

Unfortunately for him, Billy isn't dumb or blind. He could see Max's tuff of red hair in the window with some other dweebs that he’s going to find out who one-by-one.

He'll let them know what happens when someone lies to his face like what Steve Harrington's doing.

Because liars are the kind of people that Billy hates the most. 

He shoves Steve when the latter tried to explain after Billy called him out on his lie.

"I told you to plant your feet," He says, before kicking the guy in the stomach before leaving him on the ground grunting. 

Then Billy marches in the house, closes the door behind him with his eyes zeroed on Max then Lucas Sinclair. 

Ah, he gets it now. 

All this trouble is because of a teenage crush. Maxine is fucking hopeful that she’ll find love with this boy. 

Billy wants to laugh for there's no fucking way it’s going to happen. 

One, because of Neil fucking Hargrove. 

Second, from what he’s remembered, Sinclair’s already giving Max trouble. The boy's just gonna break her heart. 

Third, love isn’t fucking real. If it is, then it’s the most fragile thing in this shitty world. 

Billy sees red, isn't even fully thinking when he shoves Lucas on the wall. When he does though, he keeps it up just so Lucas would feel cornered. Similar to the trouble they gave him when they took Max. Neil cornering him, making him feel suffocated.

The difference is, Lucas fights back and kicks him in the nuts.

Billy stumbles back, in pain, and his anger refueled. Not just from getting kicked, but from how Lucas, small, obviously weaker than him, could easily fight back.

Unlike him who's easily cowed when the monster in his life corners him.

Billy had never wanted to hit the kid, but Lucas is pushing his buttons. He's also jabbed his bruised ego.

“You’re so dead, Sinclair! ”

_“Billy.”_

Billy falters at the call of his name.

The soft-spoken utterance of his name that’s coming from Steve _fucking_ Harrington out of all people. 

_“Don’t.”_

There’s a hand on his shoulder that’s so lightly put there Billy barely feels the weight of it. In terms of logic, that is, because Harrington’s hand is anything but easy to ignore. It’s really the way Harrington placed it on his shoulder that's messing with his head. It's light, but not cautious, almost familiar in a way that Harrington thinks they’re friendly to each other, sans whatever the fuck happened right near the porch of house Byers. 

It’s fucking infuriating, especially when Harrington squeezes his shoulder, like a bother who makes an effort to be noticed. 

Billy bristles at the extra touch and turns around to peel it off him before it burns his skin. Then he greets Harrington with a manic grin.

“Pretty boy. Didn’t think you’d get up so fast to get my attention again.”

Steve doesn’t rise up to his bait. In fact, he looks like he’s in pain from the way he’s holding his head with his free hand, his eyes squeezed shut.

Billy doesn’t remember hitting him in the head, didn’t even think he’d heard the _‘thunk’_ sound someone’s head makes when it meets the pavement. But he could be wrong, maybe Harrington did hit his head, Billy just didn’t hear it from his frayed senses, thanks to his anger overriding everything. 

“Check the fridge.”

Those words grabbed his curiosity. It’s an odd choice of words to say, and the sudden cacophony of the brats yelling protests deduced that it is something important. Billy decided to check, only because it’s causing more ruckus from the kids who are hyperventilating on Steve, who belatedly shushed them with a booming _‘Shut the fuck up, dipshits!’_

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


When Billy opens the fridge, the protests died and gave way to have the — the _thing_ to make the only sound as it slid from the refrigerator and thumped on the kitchen floor. 

Billy could only dumbfoundedly stare at it, wordless, and utterly lost for once. 

That is until the second sound of a much larger body hitting the floor echoes, cutting through the silence, jolting Billy from his stupor. 

“Steve!”

Billy turns around and is greeted with the sight of Harrington convulsing on the floor. 

* * *

  
  


Billy’s encountered enough first aid lessons and books to somewhat have an idea of what to do when someone's having a seizure.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Was the first thing to say as he marches over because the kids are practically looming over the boy, and the one with the curly hair keeps on shaking him. 

_Fucking idiots._

Good thing they stepped away and gave Billy the space he needed when he told them off— or he swears to God nothing nice is gonna come out of his mouth. Billy chances a glance at the thing again on the kitchen floor to make sure it’s dead before entirely giving Harrington his attention. 

Steve’s nose is gushing with blood, and Billy spats out curses because he isn’t sure if that’s normal. 

“Fuck! Give us space! And one of you, get some ice!!”

The curly-haired one immediately runs to the kitchen, and Billy took a brief glance, a bit surprised when the kid casually stepped around the dog looking thing. Then he focuses back on Harrington, muttering something along the lines of _‘Bunch of weirdos,’_ while carefully gathering the shaking boy and sitting him a bit upright. 

Billy’s aware that this is not the correct way to help someone who’s in the middle of experiencing seizures. But the boy’s nose is literally cascading with blood, and he’d rather not have his lungs drown and put more complications to whatever fuckery is already happening here. He somewhat holds Steve in his arms with him kneeling on the ground, the boy leaning sideways and convulsing against his chest. 

_Fuck,_ He thought while staring at Harrington. _How did my night turn into this?_

The curly-haired kid comes back and hands him a pack of frozen peas, and Billy waits until Steve stops shaking. It took a few minutes, and Steve's face is already crusted with dried blood. Billy sighs, exasperated because the problems just keep popping. 

At least Steve's still breathing after the seizure. Billy carefully places the bag of peas on Steve's nose, not because he's feeling tender or whatever, he's just paranoid he might accidentally trigger another seizure. Even though he isn't sure if that's how it works.

“Get a damn wet towel for his face,” He tiredly instructs, specifically to no one, after some time. 

Slowly, he shifts out of his position to lift Harrington and put him on the couch. One of the brats has probably complied with his demand, either way, Billy doesn’t give much fuck because he’s more invested in wincing for his knees felt numbed as he stood while carrying Harrington like a damn bride. 

Seriously, Billy would make sure that Harrington won’t ever live this moment down. 

If they will get past tonight.

That thing in the fridge didn’t look like it’s a new species that came from this planet. 

Billy doesn’t believe in the supernatural that much, but seeing that dog-thing makes him reconsider instantly. 

* * *

  
  


Billy in the middle of cleaning up Harrington (really, what the fuck is happening to his life?) when he noticed the kids huddling and having this not so secret planning with the way they’re whisper-shouting. Max even uttered his name once or twice that Billy finally put an end to it at the third one. 

“The fuck you mentioning my name in your nerd conversation, shitbird?!”

His step-sister immediately turns, spitting fire like she always does when provoked. 

“Fuckin’ did not!” Billy gives her a look, and soon, Max deflated. “Okay, _shithead._ I did.” She glowered.

“And why?”

“Because you’re the only one with a car.” The kid who could pass as mini-wheeler stated outright like some bossy kid who doesn’t know when to draw the line.

Billy raises a brow, unamused. 

“You want me to give you a ride when your babysitter is literally in need of care here?”

Yep, that’s another thing that Harrington won’t ever live down as long as Hargrove’s around. King Steve, babysitting teenagers to keep them safe from monsters. 

_What a fucking Hero._ Billy nearly snorts. 

“He was saying yes, and we were gonna go before you interrupted!”

The mini-wheeler kid is really getting on Billy’s nerves. 

“Well, now he’s down from having a seizure that might’ve happened mid-drive, what are gonna do now, kid?”

Billy’s logical remark certainly hit the kid as he scampers off with a bunch of _‘fuck you!’_ And _‘You dick!’_ The kids follow their leader who’s throwing a tantrum, and Billy couldn’t help but chuckle at their stupid sense of appointing the Alpha of the group. 

Seriously, who walks off outside when there might still be more of that thing in the fridge? It’s like dumb and dumber, cause his step-sister and friends follow after _Dumb._

Billy shouts a ‘Don’t stay there for too long, or another one might appear and bite ya in the ass!’ before he looks back at Harrington and nearly leaps out of his skin when he sees him looking back. 

“Jesus Christ, Harrington! Gimme a break!” He says, his heart jackhammering against his chest out of surprise. 

Steve, the fucker who looks doped as hell from the way he’s looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, smiles softly at him. Billy gapes like a fish because that’s the least he’d expect from King Steve of all people, especially when he’s sure that the boy doesn’t remember Billy helping him. 

What puts him out of the water further is when he felt that fucking hand again placed on his arm, squeezing gently like _‘hey, there, didn’t know I’ll find you here.’_

So intimate, like friends— (it fucking sounded more than that, but Billy doesn’t want to dredge much into what it indicates.) who haven’t seen each other for a long time.

Then, Steve Harrington opened his mouth.

_“Knew you had it in you, Hargrove.”_

There’s tantamount of fondness jammed into those words, and Billy Hargrove, for the life of him, is going to die from breathlessness. 

Harrington’s words strangely squeeze his heart. It lies in between a surge of pain and this good feeling from appreciation. Because that’s it, isn’t it? He’s getting praised, most likely Harrington heard him warning the idiots to get back in the house, and he’s internally preening from it. 

Steve Harrington’s proud of him thinking about the shitbird’s and her friends’ safety. 

_‘You did a good job, love,’ She says, looking at Billy like he’s everything good in the world. ‘My boy’s got a golden heart.’_

_Billy hears the teasing tone on the last part, blushes, and ducks, looking anywhere but his mama’s crinkled eyes. He hears that beautiful laugh and squeaks when he gets crushed in a tight hug. Giggles when he gets peppered with kisses._

It’s frightening how Harrington has unintentionally pulled that memory in Billy’s mind. The uncanny similarity of how he’d felt from then to now. That fucking _‘good feeling,’_ like he’s a kid all over again, getting happy from his mama’s love and attention. And, it shouldn’t feel this fucking good, not when he’s practiced not to care, not when the person who’s making it happen is Steve Harrington.   
  


Steve, who doesn’t hang out with him, who doesn’t know shit about him, whom he bullies a bit because he’s heard of his good life and how the dude has parents who don’t come home often and leaves him to his devices ( if only Neil could do the same. If only he could get pulled back in the military and get drafted far away from Billy until the day he dies.) 

They weren’t really anything but high school rivals if Steve even gives a fuck about that, which is somewhat doubtful that he doesn’t. Steve had given a bit of fuck back in Tina’s Halloween party, had gone in a bit of a fit when Billy harassed him on the basketball court. 

But that’s it, Harrington’s easy to lose his fire, went from King to bitch, and in a matter of a few days, lost interest in the game of hierarchy Billy wanted him to play.

Billy had this inkling feeling, this little monster in his head whispering that _maybe_ he’s simply not enough to goad Steve into re-igniting that fire. And that idea fucking offends him, makes Harrington a person who’s easy to hate.

  
  


_So_ how did it turn to this?

  
  


“You still out of your fucking mind, Harrington?” 

Because that’s the only reason, that’ll make sense.

Harrington drops his hand, laughs, tears prickles the edges of his eyes from how much he’s giggling like a loon. 

Billy doesn’t get the damn joke, if there’s one, to begin with.

“Yep, outta my mind,” Steve says when he sobers up from cackling like an idiot. “More like this body’s rejecting my fucking brain.”

Odd choice of words, but Steve just had a seizure on the floor not too long ago, so Billy doesn’t think much of it. Instead, he raised a brow in mock-confusion. 

“Didn’t know you had one, pretty boy.”

Steve snorts. “Very funny, Hargrove, didn’t know you could be such a charmer.”

A shit-eating grin lights up on Billy’s face. 

“You should have seen yourself when you were passed out in my arms, _princess._ ”

Harrington raises a brow, stares at Billy as if he’s assessing something before he looks away with a self-satisfied smile. 

“Yeah? Bet I still looked very regal. Did prince charming put me on the couch?”

Billy couldn’t believe Harrington decided to ride along with this and not give him the usual snark or brush off he gets whenever he teases the boy. 

“He sure did, even gave you a kiss on the cheek.”

“ _Damn,_ no wonder I woke up groggy.”

“Hey,” Billy warns with a squint of his eyes. “Be thankful, brat.”

Steve puts up his hand in surrender with a dopey smile. “Sorry, didn’t know I was talking to _the_ prince charming.”

“Who else is gonna be strong enough to carry you,” Billy deadpans in place of an unimpressed eye roll. “One of your brats?”

Harrington’s about to reply but halted when they both hear the screeching of a car that erased all the playfulness on their faces. 

“Uhh,” Steve starts, blinking at Billy with his suddenly awake, wide eyes. “That wasn’t your car, was it?”

“My baby revs when you start it, Harrington.” 

_“Fuck.”_

* * *

  
  
  
  


_“I cannot believe you kids!”_

Billy stifles a laugh, despite the fact that no other ear would be able to pick it up because he decided to stay in his car with windows still up. It’s actually a convenient place, what with getting the first sit to see Steve Harrington losing his shit to the twerps who he’d commanded to line up outside his bimmer. 

They’ve managed to find them right away. 

Apparently, Max tried to drive the car. Billy slammed his hand on the wheel when he saw the twerp come out of the driver’s seat because that shit was too funny. You see, the reason why the task of finding them was easy is ‘cause Max is an over-confident idiot (Billy won’t ever admit that the little shit picked up a few traits from him.) 

Max attempted to drive Harrington’s car, and Billy’s sure it’s because she thinks that seeing him operate his car (sitting in the gunshot and all provide a good vantage point for observing) is enough to give her the idea on how to drive. So it’s quite a scene to see Harrington’s bimmer going from twenty to thirty on the road, yielding and going like every two feet has an invisible stoplight that the driver’s following. 

Billy had a _‘what the fuck?’_ expression that Steve yelled out when they saw it happening. Harrington then commanded that he must stop the car by blocking it with his Camaro. Which, _duh,_ Billy vehemently refused, but then Harrington, the shameless bastard, turned and fucking got in his personal space and slammed the horn of the car repeatedly. 

_‘Fucking block those kids, or I’d turn the fucking wheel to stop them!’_

Which is, _wow,_ bold of Harrington to threaten him when he could just kick the idiot out of his car. But then, by some miracle, Billy felt for Steve. If someone tried to drive his baby like that, he’d most likely lose it as well. Also, he needs to get his idiot step-sister. 

So Billy sped up and blocked the path, Steve immediately went out and stood before the Camaro with his arms crossed, something that raised Billy’s brow, half in awe and the other half in disbelief.

Steve Harrington’s _really_ got guts, and _honestly?_ Billy’s starting to respect that. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“I cannot believe those idiots!” Harrington hissed to him as Billy lowered his window per the King’s request— which was knocking on the glass, something that he would’ve admonished with a punch on any other day. 

Not tonight though, not when Steve’s close to having another seizure, no thanks to the brats.

“Well, considering one of them’s shameless enough to steal the car key of someone who just had a seizure on the floor,” Billy shot Wheeler boy-version a look that got a glower in return. “I’m not that surprised anymore of whatever the fuck they wanted to do at this point.”

“They’re planning to burn the demodogs’ den,” Harrington’s lips thinned. _“Alone.”_

“A demo— _what?_ ”

“The thing in the fridge, idiot,” Max provided, glaring at Billy before she averted it when Harrington turned to her with stern eyes.

_Huh,_ now that’s interesting. It seems like Harrington established authority over the twerps, like the excellent babysitter he is, or mother hen from the way he’s been acting since earlier. 

“We’re coming with you— scratch that, we’re going, and Billy and I are leading the damn party to make sure you dipshits won’t die.”

Wait, _what?_

“Harring—” Billy didn’t get to finish when Harrington suddenly turned to him with fire in his eyes.

“Now, _you listen,_ ” Harrington starts. “You’ve already gotten this far, might as well stay through the whole shit. Besides, I don’t think I can drive at this point without having another episode or whatever happened earlier.”

“You had a seizure,” Billy provides, suddenly finding himself itching for a smoke. 

“Yeah, exactly, whatever,” Harrington raised up his arms in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is; we’re fucked either way. We’ve gotten in too deep already. Well, I’ve been, but welcome to the club. I’ll provide you more details after we save the fucking world as your welcome gift.”

Billy chuckled. “Is that you trying to be funny, Harrington?” 

“No! It’s me trying to convince you!” Steve smacked his head with his hands, clearly on the verge of losing his shit _again._ “I don’t know what else to do, Billy. I don’t even know how I’d convince you without you punching me first!”

Billy faltered and blinked stupidly at Harrington.

“Did you just call me…”

“Billy,” Steve squatted on the floor with his fingers delicately clutching on the edge of the half-down glass window. _“Please...”_

  
  


* * *

Billy didn’t know what compelled him to comply with Harrington’s request (Definitely had nothing to do with those soft, _soft,_ pleading doe eyes that keeps on haunting him— like those ocean ones that he buried then and again in hopes of forgetting it forever.)

It wasn’t exactly an easy _‘yes, okay, shit, let’s do it!’_ to begin with. Billy still resisted, repeatedly complained as the brats transfer flammable stuff and a, _a fucking nailed-bat?_ In the back of his car. 

But it all went in vain (similar to how _her_ eyes kept reappearing in his head, and how once more it’s comparable to that golden, earthy color of _King_ Steve’s who all but kneeled before him. _Well,_ it’s technically squatting, but it’s all the same for Billy Hargrove.) 

In _vain,_ since Steve Harrington had wholly shut him off mid-ride by closing his eyes. 

_“Harrington?! Are you listening? I said I’m going to turn the fuck around and you can go on your merry way, use your car or whatever—_ **_hey!_ ** _”_

_  
“He’s sleeping, you dickhead.”_

_Billy shot a glare at curly-tops in the mirror before chancing a glance at Harrington to see first-hand that, indeed, the fucker had taken a nap. Either that or he’s faking it, which is, kudos to his acting if he is, considering he looks very much relaxed._

_“Fucking hell, Harrington,” He grumbles as he darted his focus back to the road. “We’re on the way to hell, and you’ve taken a fucking nap. You got balls.”_

_“Billy!” Max screeched, scandalized of what she heard._

_“Again, see my point? No wonder you got along with him and his squad, all fucking crazy.”_

_“Well, welcome to the club, he said.”_

_“Shut the fuck up, Sinclair.”_

* * *

Harrington woke up when they got to their destination like every bad car passenger in the world. 

“How was the nap, _princess?_ ” Billy sneered while the boy is still looking around, disoriented. He can hear the kids are already piling out of the car. “You— _fuck,_ you’re bleeding _again._ ”

Steve seems to hear him for he wiped his nose with his sleeve, but otherwise, he’s still got that intoxicated look on his face. 

Billy kept his eyes on him, fingers impatiently tapping the wheel. Harrington’s holding his head once more, clutching it in pain. He looks so agonized, and Billy couldn’t help but intervene. 

“Harr— _Steve,_ ” Billy says, testing the name and finding it too friendly for him to use, so he clears his throat and makes a redo. “ _Hey,_ Harrington.”

_You okay?_ Gets stuck in his throat. Because that sounds too buddy-buddy in his head too. Billy knows he’s allowed to do it, is aware that Steve Harrington won’t mind since he’s the first to do weird shit Billy would never expect from him. But, a man has his limit, okay? And being affectionate to Harrington without the usual mock-flirting is just way out of the field for one Billy Hargrove. 

“We’ve got five minutes,” Steve muttered, wincing after which says how hard it is for him to utter words. “Billy, we gotta— _gotta_ be with them.”

Harrington removes his hand from his disheveled hair after and must be having a pep talk with himself since the idiot pretty much has that body language of a guy willing himself to be alright by chanting _‘I can do this, I can definitely do this, I’ll be alright,’_ with his eyes closed and face scrunched up in pain.

“How ‘bout you can’t do it, Harrington? Did you hear yourself say that?”

_“Billy.”_

Billy raises both arms in surrender. “Woah, can it, princess. I’m just saying what your parasite brain is saying.”

Harrington pops opens an eye to side-glare him, which is ineffective when the boy appears to be a step away from losing consciousness. “Parasite..?”

“That’s what you said earlier, remember? Your body’s rejecting your brain. Can’t think of anything else to call it.”

Steve stares, uncomfortably so until he closes his eyelid in favor of being comfortable himself. Billy only raised a curious brow, which quickly fell when he heard the kids whining about him getting out of the car to get the equipment in the trunk. He rolled his eyes, mumbled _‘fuckin’ kids,’_ before turning to unlock his car door but halted when he heard the boy beside him laughing. 

“You’re right,” He hears Steve say, light and grim. Like a jester storytelling a fucking tragedy. “I’m a fucking parasite.”

Billy shivers, couldn’t truly pinpoint why, other than the reality that Steve didn’t sound like he’s kidding. 

“You know that’s not a good joke right now, idiot.”

Steve only laughed, voice weak, apparently still in pain. Mouthing a breathy _‘you started it, dipshit,’_ before groaning in pain. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Seeing is believing they say, well, Billy’s truly believing at this point as they travel through the subterranean tunnels made of odd, alien-like stuff. 

“What the fuck is this?” Billy hissed as he helps Harrington walk. 

“Upside down shit,” Steve provides, wobbly walking, obviously still weak, but at least his eyes are peeled open and focused, determinately looking ahead. “Interconnected tunnels, we’re gonna burn the hub.”

Billy hummed in reply, couldn’t come up with anything to quip back as he stares around with a handkerchief covering half his face, his hand tightening around the crowbar he’s holding (thank fuck he has one in the trunk.)

This whole shit is weird and creepy. It screams of danger, and yet, despite Harrington’s weakened state where he had to hang on to Billy to walk, the idiot dared to head on and lead the party. 

_Fucking_ lion heart there, Billy couldn’t deny anymore that the boy had gained all his respect. 

So Billy, out of his good will and as a salute, held the boy by the waist, tight, making sure he wouldn’t trip and fall and probably get another episode if he bangs his head on the floor. 

Steve Harrington even has the nailed bat in hand, a silent indication of how he’ll fight dying for them. 

_Them.  
_

Including _him._

Proven when Steve squeezed his shoulder after Curly-tops stupidly poked one of the spores-spitting things and Billy had a momentary realization that they were dealing with the real shit. Had this hitch in his breath, sudden stiffness even as Dustin (from what he’s heard when they screamed out his name) said he’s okay after spitting out the spores that got in his mouth. 

_“We'll be okay, Billy. I won’t let anyone of you die tonight.”_

Steve wouldn’t stop calling him by his name like he matters to him, Billy doesn’t know what the fuck to do other than shut his mouth when it happens. Given that he doesn’t know what to say anyway, it’s evidently a good move. 

In the short run, that is, because Billy knows this is a fragile thing, whatever this is, caring has always been brittle when it comes to Billy. Has always been when it’s for him. 

But he lets Steve, for now. Because it feels nice, especially when he’s hanging on between the steep line of life and death.

It’s nice to feel cared for before dying, even if it’s coming from Steve Harrington. 

* * *

  
  
  


They set _‘the hub,’_ alight, the kids have now led the running with Billy being the slowest since he hasn’t let go of Harrington who’s grunting now and then as he hops, jogs and drags his body to keep up with Billy’s pace. 

They’ve come to a stop at the sight of Dustin feeding a live version of the alien Billy saw sliding out of the Byers fridge. 

“Eat up, buddy.” 

“What the actual fuck?” Billy says, but Steve shushes him and ushers the other kids to move. 

“Go, go, go,” Steve whispers, and the kids comply, sidestepping to get across, far away from the thing and Dustin who’s giving all his chocolate to it. “Come on,” He says to Dustin before turning to Billy. “Us too.”   
  


Billy nods, making sure they’re as far away as possible from that alien dog and the strange walls while moving. 

  
  


* * *

There’s suddenly a roaring sound that cut through the heavy steps they’re all making from running. 

“What is that?” Max says, loud enough for Billy to hear even though he couldn’t really see her. 

“They’re coming!” Mike shouts. 

Billy feels cold all of a sudden as the roaring gets louder, his heart thundered in his chest, out of dread, even when he began to see the opening on the roof of the tunnel. 

The kids began to go up, and the growling and monstrous sound only got louder, _nearer._

“Take my hand!” Billy hears Lucas say to Dustin, who’s unsure because he’s looking back at Steve and him like he couldn’t leave them behind. 

“Go!” Billy shouts, feeling his heart squeeze a certain kind of fondness for this little shit who doesn’t know self-preservation like both him and Harrington. “I got Steve!” 

Yeah, lie to himself that the kid didn’t look at him even for a split second while looking unsure, Billy Hargrove is the fucking epitome of denial (He also did not call Harrington by his name without the discomfort earlier, nada, didn’t happen at all. No one can prove shit.)

But it’s okay to be his stupid self for one more time. He’s at death’s door anyway. Billy can feel it. 

_—Can_ hear it. Those paw steps, wild and unbidden to his ears, much more are those growls, putting the image of that limp, open-mouthed, dead thing with hundreds of teeth in its petal-like mouth. 

It makes him wonder what’ll it feel like when it bites you _when_ _dozens_ of them feast on you. 

Billy snaps out of it when Steve maneuvers them around the moment they’re right by the rope, though evidently, it’ll be of no use from the sound of death coming at them. 

But then here’s Steve who’s been weak and wobbly since their way to and in the tunnel, surprising Billy for what the latter thinks the last time.

Twice this night, Harrington stood before death, shielding Billy Hargrove (Honestly, the first one where the bimmer is coming at them is kinda not certain, but Billy felt it was like that for a few seconds. It tugged his heart, unwarranted, but he is now counting it in.) and this one’s with full intention. 

Steve Harrington hugged him, so tight it nearly squeezed the air out of Billy’s lungs. 

“You’re not dying tonight, Billy,” Steve determinately says to him, his hand letting go of the bat to tuck Billy’s head in his neck. “I won’t let them. _Not again._ ”

Billy barely hears the words since his heart’s already pounding against his ears. 

It’s fucked up, how Billy picks up the supposedly unnecessary things. 

The way Steve holds him, the only words _‘I won’t let them,’_ his ear picked up and kept ringing in his head. Because there’s so much conviction there. So much care and this time it isn’t frail and easily breakable at death’s door. 

_‘I won’t ever let anything happen to you, love.’_

_Those blue, ocean eyes where Billy got his stares at him, showing love, tenderness, and a promise.  
  
_

_Billy’s encased in a warm embrace, like a cocoon that blankets him from the pain of the world._

_It didn’t last. She disappeared before Billy could understand that sometimes, those you love either breaks your heart or breaks your bones._

But then. 

_‘I won’t let them.’_

Repeats like a broken record while he’s encased in a hug that might as well break his bones. 

_But,_ a hand’s on his head, a body shielding him from claws and teeth that would shed his flesh away from his bones. 

There’s breathing right by his ear, and Billy waits, focuses on it, afraid of hearing it hitch in pain, afraid of hearing it stop. 

Because Billy used to be a _‘live fast, die young,’_ guy. Used to believe that love and hope are as brittle as glass, and it had died on him the moment his mother left him. 

Then Harrington happened.

Brave Steve Harrington, whom he didn’t truly know until tonight, didn’t see as nothing but a nuisance to step on until the boy woke up from his seizure and gazed at him with that doped up, warm pool of eyes showcasing pride for him. Then lorded him around, made him join the nerds' adventure like he’d taken another heathen under his wing. Made him see death twice, but had blocked the path so it would take him instead of Billy. 

Had shown him what it felt like to have someone die for you, fight for your life, _care for you._

Billy couldn’t help and stop laughing, not even in relief when the dogs passed by them like they’re just conjoined poles standing in the middle of the path. He _just_ couldn't, can’t even make the tears cascading down his cheeks stop. 

Not when Billy’s found something worth living for, someone worth putting his hopes up for— someone to keep, someone to watch over, someone to devote his life. 

It’s quite funny, really. 

Harrington’s been talking about stupid brain parasite and all that shit, and, right now, Billy thinks he might be one. 

Because how can Steve Harrington fucking crawl up in his heart? Fuck him up and tilt his world upside down? 

_—And so it went like that._

All in one night. 

  
  



	2. Let me in ( in the domain of your daily life when you're on vacation from being a hero.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saving the world doesn't give you an allowance for rest. Billy doesn't mind, not when he gets to spend time with Steve Harrington.

Billy parked his car a few feet from the Harrington residence. 

He stared at the grandness of the place but quickly lost interest the moment he noticed the one he’s looking for isn’t there, _yet._

So he turned the car off and starts waiting. Half of him knows he’s too early, and the other half doesn’t give a fuck because he’s been doing this for the past few days. 

Cerebrating is what they call it. Being dumb too, knowing it’s more of a hassle to fetch Harrington then come back for Max. 

_“You can just wait for Max first, you know? Or, uh, I can drive?”_

_“Don’t be obtuse, pretty boy, Max will be done by the time I come back with you. She’s always fucking late.”_

_Steve blinks then tilts his head. “ **O**_ ** _r_ ** _I can drive?”_

_“We talked about this,” Billy deadpanned. “I ain’t letting you drive until I’m sure you’re not gonna go have a seizure mid-drive.”_

_Steve bites his lips, contemplative, unsure of Billy’s proposition— as if he’d let the boy have a say in this after hearing the of talk about Steve Harrington getting a nose bleed in the middle of the class._

_They think it’s funny. That it’s Harrington’s brain incapable of processing shit that it overworked itself and bled._

_Billy had at least made two jackasses get a nose bleed from saying that shit._

_“But Doctor—” Before Steve could finish, Billy’s already answering him._

_“He can screw himself. You had another nose bleed on the first day back to school. You think I’d risk that?”_

_Steve gets this touched, tender look. “Fine,” He then says, conceding with a barely restrained smile. “Whatever you say, boss.”_

_Billy pretends he didn’t see it. Pretends it doesn’t fuck with his heart._

Honestly, it makes more sense to follow Harrington’s advice. It’s common sense, really, considering he’s stepping on eggshells every time he brings the boy back near the Hargrove-Mayfield household. 

Even though Neil hasn’t seen them together yet cause Billy parks a bit away from the driveway, it’s only a matter of time until the asshole got wind of Billy’s little routine. 

He should really just bribe Max to wake up early, use the money that goes into the gas from driving back and forth like a dumbass. 

But then again, _cerebrating._

Billy surmises maybe another day won’t hurt. 

So he relaxes then started his little routine. He begins counting in his head, fingers tapping on the wheel every ten, flicked his cigarette out the window every fifteen. All the while imagining what Harrington will look like as he’s coming over to where Billy parked. 

Steve usually makes his way over while sporting a smile. He’d then make a small, casual wave, something that would’ve made him look like a dork. But somehow it melts Billy’s insides, would make him look away to hide how one ordinary gesture fucks him up already. 

Harrington then would get in the car, greet him with a _“Hey, Billy! So are you finally taking up my offer? Coffee? Toast? Grilled cheese sandwich? Salad if you’re body conscious?”_ or _“Heya, Billy! How’s your morning?”_

No lie, Steve is a fucking chatterbox. Billy is not sure if it’s his way of getting close to someone or if it’s Steve being the natural dork (Billy won’t ever admit he thinks of Steve fondly when he calls him a dork.)

It should drive him crazy. Usually, Billy hates talkative people who’ve got no clear ideas in their head, so they jump from one topic to another. But Steve doesn’t get him riled up. Billy isn’t sure if it’s from having _feelings_ for him or Harrington’s just got the charm (Objectively, he is prettier than any cows in Hawkin’s High. Billy may have had negative issues regarding King Steve at the beginning because of Tommy’s babbling, but _damn,_ he did ogle Harrington’s pretty face that night at Tina’s party.)

So yeah, Steve Harrington _does_ drive him crazy but in a different way.

Steve who offers breakfast as a greeting, who smiles at him like they’ve been best of friends since diapers. Who decidedly looked for Billy at lunch and asked him to sit with him. Then Steve gave him the lunch he made for him as a thank you for driving him around ( _Man,_ Harrington can fucking cook well.) Oh, don’t forget the fact that he isn’t afraid of the shit he says to Billy. 

Billy knows he can be pretty intimidating. But lo and behold, dethroned King Steve Harrington, shameless and an expert in fucking with Billy (no, not the sexual kind, unfortunately.) He’s not afraid of biting back ( again, not that kind. So unfortunate.) Or flirting back (not real too, life’s _just_ a travesty,) when Billy dishes it out, sometimes Steve dishes it out first (Billy honestly thought that night at Byers was a fluke since Harrington just had a seizure. Turns out Stevie’s actually pretty cool with it.) 

Steve’s just so chill. Fucking cool guy, honestly. Attractive face and that God damn lion heart of his. He makes it so easy to catch feelings, makes it easier to want to stay. 

Nancy Wheeler must be out of her fucking mind. 

Steve Harrington’s a one in millions.

Billy goes crazy thinking about ways to keep him by his side.

It drives him nuts every morning. Fucking cerebrating on how to keep one Steve Harrington. How he’d like imagining seeing him waving at him every damn morning, saying good morning and coaxing him into eating breakfast (Billy does before picking him up. But Steve’s mother henning is too fun to see.)

* * *

  
  
  


Billy felt like he won millions the first time Steve invited him to hang out with him after dropping off Max in the arcade. Giddy when he’s introduced to casa Harrington. A dwelling that houses a dump of pricey materials, and soon, he realized, a boy who may be a bit lonely (To think that he’s hated Harrington for this life. That he’s felt so envious, now the thought of living alone in a spacey house with the knowledge of monsters possibly lurking around in the woods terrifies him.) 

So Billy, out of goodwill and selfish reasons, brazenly inserts himself in Steve’s after-school idling; Regularly.

They bum around in Harrington’s oddly designed room, and today, Billy’s rummaging his cassette tapes to find most of it disappointing. 

“You listen to anything good other than the Smiths, Pretty boy? Cause I can’t find any here,” Billy feels something soft hit his back and looks over his shoulder to grin at Steve. “You throwing pillows at me for telling the truth?”

“It’s ‘cause you're a dick,” Steve says, comfortably splayed on the mattress. “And you’re having an elitist attitude about music when we both know all you listen to is ear-splitting music.”

_“Rude.”_

Billy picked up the pillow and hurled it back at Harrington, whooped when it hit his face. 

_“Fuck_ ,” Steve moaned in pain, slapping the cushion away and flipping Billy off. “ _God,_ that hurt. Gives me an idea of how offended you are, fucktard.” 

“You’re just being dramatic,” Billy says with a roll of his eyes before he catapulted his body on the mattress. 

Steve makes a surprised noise beside him when Billy hits the bed face down, most likely caught off guard when he bounced a few inches on the mattress. 

“Billy!” He hears him shriek then chuckle. “You massive piece of shit! You’re gonna break my bed!”

Billy lifts his head with a lazy smirk. “Not the usual way I break beds, but for you, I can make an exception.” 

Steve raises a brow, a silent _‘oh, really?’_ that rings in Billy’s head. His lips are pulled upward, and Billy would’ve prolonged the staring contest if it isn’t for the pillow that hits him on the head. 

_“Fucking asshole!”_ He shouts, but it’s muffled because his face is back against the fucking mattress that smells so much of Steve he tries not to get a hard-on from having a few breaths in. 

Harrington’s lively laughter echoes in the room, Billy’s never felt more at home than this moment (excluding the fact that remembering the wallpaper of Steve’s room makes him want to punch something.) 

This feeling of ease, without fearing Neil lurking around, keen eyes always on Billy, waiting for him to fuck up. 

Speaking of authoritarian figures, Billy thinks it wouldn’t hurt to ask since he’s been lounging around here lately (Won’t be too nosey to inquire, right?)

“So,” He started, head moving to his side to where Harrington’s laying. “Where are your mom and dad? I haven’t seen them around yet.”

Steve has his eyes closed, fingers tapping on his stomach. Billy drinks in the sight of him, wondering if he’s feeling the same calmness that Steve instilled in him. 

Harrington hums, eyelids peeling open, revealing his brown, Bambi eyes staring off the ceiling. 

“Well… I don’t really know where they are right now. Maybe in Italy? France? Who knows,” Then a smile breaks through and his eyes darts to Billy. “I bet they won’t be back on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New year.” 

“Jesus,” Billy muttered. He’s heard they’re not around much. But not even at least having time for their son on those holidays? That’s simply fucked up. “Would you want them to be here?”

“Not really,” Steve admits. “The last time— well, _maybe_? At least I know what they’re going to say when they get back here.” 

“Nagging parents?” 

Billy receives an odd, secretive smile. 

“That, and, you see, I said _maybe_ ‘cause when you’ve said hello to death many times. You just don’t give a fuck about their expectations anymore— you just…” Steve trails off, shrugs, his doe eyes fathomless. “Maybe I just wanna see them again.”

“Yeah?” Billy says, couldn’t really form a proper reply in his head. Not with Harrington looking like that— like he’s years older than his age. 

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out. Smiles then shifts to face Billy. “Maybe I should crash in yours during Holidays, huh?”

Billy snorts then turns his head away. “You’d rather not, Pretty boy, believe me.”

 _Not with Neil around,_ Billy wanted to say but couldn’t find it in himself to do so. 

“Sounds like yours sucks too,” Steve comments, sounding like he knew something. But Billy knows that’s impossible. “Wanna celebrate with me?”

That got Billy immediately whipping his head back. 

“What?” He uttered in disbelief.

“Why not? You can spend time with me, make someone’s holiday less shitty, ya know.”

Billy sits up, chuckling. “You saying I make your shitty life better, pretty boy?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at him, sits himself up as well before answering the teasing question. 

“More like _I_ get to make your day less shitty. You just lack a cool guy in your life, Hargrove.” 

_If you’re planning to be the cool guy in my life, you better fucking stay, Stevie._ Billy wanted to say but thought better of it. Instead, he pretended he’s grumbling. 

“Yeah, a fucking sappy dork who listens to ABBA, sure. This hick town doesn’t even know the definition of _‘cool_.’ Fucking hopeless.”

“ABBA’s pretty awesome, you’ve just turned deaf. Thank your morning metal music breakfast.” 

Billy hurls the pillow back at Harrington, hitting him in the chest, which had the latter grunting in surprise. 

“Maybe that would knock some semblance of sense into you,” He gruffed out before standing up, itching for a stick. 

Steve kept the pillow in his arms, glaring at Billy. 

“You get _so_ easily offended, fuckhead.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


It’s a no brainer that it became news when Billy started hanging out with Steve. Most people astonished to find what they’ve labeled as ‘archenemies’ became close friends.

Some asked, and if polite enough in his ears, Billy casually answers them that he’s found out Steve’s a pretty chill guy. 

One time, Dave, the fucking arrogant dick who’s usually placed on the bench because he apparently sucks, asked him while they’re all changing in the locker room, preparing for practice. 

“So, heard you got Harrington over there as your bitch?”

Easy to say, it did not end well for Dave— or should be, if not for Harrington stopping him. He even had the time to scold him when Billy got aggressive with Dave and got benched for it. 

“You know you’ll get detention or worse suspended if you pull that shit, Hargrove,” Steve hissed then shoved bottled water at Billy, who’s standing in front of him. “Who’s gonna drive me then, huh?”

“Right,” He replied with a shrug, then took the bottle and sat next to Steve. “Should’ve fucking waited and ambushed him as I did last time.”

Steve gawked at him.

“Last time?!”

“Yeah, heard some little fucks talking bad about your nosebleed incident,” Billy takes the towel that Steve handed him and wiped his face. “Fucking shouldn’t joke about that.”

“Oh my God, prince charming, how can I ever repay you?” Steve sarcastically whispered. “I appreciate it, man. But no need to get your ass suspended, okay?”

“Aw, sweetheart, you’re fucking welcome,” Billy answered back in the same hushed voice. “But I punch who needs a good punching, capiche?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Sure as hell didn’t deserve it.”

“Uh, that’s because I never did?” Billy remembers pushing Steve. But that’s it! He even had a valid reason since Harrington lied about his sister. “Harrington, I swear to God if you thought I fucking punched you that night, then you’re out of your mind.”

“You would’ve if I didn’t have an episode.”

Billy arched a brow, intrigued. “Huh? You sound so sure.”

Steve only gave him a faint smile.

“That’s because I know it would’ve happened. You hate when people lie to you, right?”

“Fuck yeah! Also, you know how weird it looked on my end when I didn’t know about what’s really happening.”

Harrington seemed to give it a thought then chuckled. “Damn, you’re right. Would it save me if I said I was babysitting them?”

“Not really. Did you see that house? Fucking got drawings on the wall like some satanic ritual’s happening.

Steve doubled over from laughing, Billy tries to play it off by wiping his face, but he could still feel his shoulders shaking as he quietly laughs along with him.

They garner some attention. Even the coach says something like _‘Harrington! If you can laugh like that, you better say goodbye to being a waterboy soon. I need your ass back on the court!’_

Some players good-naturedly laughed at the comment except for Tommy Hagan, who, miraculously, is the person who hasn’t tried to ask Billy yet.

In fact, when he saw Billy with Steve the first time, he didn’t even squeak a word. He just quietly kept his distance, shooting a confused glance whenever he sees them.

Billy doesn’t know what’s cooking within Tommy’s head. But he feels like he’s going to find out soon.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make it three chapters, but then when I tried reading the second chapter, I got confused myself lol. So I chopped it into diff parts, and here we are with Billy and Steve having some quality time hehe. Sorry the tags I put won't be placed on the spotlight yet, but we'll get there soon (I didn't just put them there for nothing, I swear!)
> 
> And I appreciate the comments! Thank you so much for the positivity I was honestly afraid when I posted this, so the comments helps so much! XOXO!


	3. This time (Please let me get what I want)

Steve Harrington broke his morning routine of having an alone time by popping up early and dragging him with determined idea they make breakfast together.

 _Together._ Harrington didn’t even dare be polite and just make extra one if he wanted Billy to eat.

Billy initially assumed it’s some form of awkward attempt at paying him back for the free ride. But then shameless Steve, who loves dissing his music taste and simply messing with him, easily admits he knew Billy’s always at least fifteen minutes earlier. Said he’s tired of it and had contemplated on English period if he should invite Billy over, but couldn’t since he has nothing to offer.

“Then I thought, Ah! Why don’t I get him back here using every man's weakness? Food.”

Steve’s eyes were bright, his mouth pulled upward, brow arched and wiggling like a silent exclamation that his plan is foolproof and simply genius.

Billy, had he not been with Harrington through hell, would’ve laughed at that and then tell him to fuck off because Neil’s not going to be happy if he hears his son doing anything that domestic with another dude.

But that’s before when Billy only felt fear and anger, no thanks to his old man.

He’s fueled with pure anger back in California. He’s done a lot of shit, things that would make Neil explode, done it behind his back so that Billy could at least say _‘fuck you!’_ with a shit-eating grin. But he got too bold to the point he snuck a guy home.

Of course, Max, the nosey bitch, had to tattle about the secret sleepover.

Neil, obviously, didn’t take it well. Knew something’s odd with Billy sneaking a guy into his room in the middle of the night. No interrogation happened, only investigation.

It’s too late when Billy got wind of his old man’s snooping.

All he knew was that he came home with Neil slamming his fist into his face as a welcome home, son. It was gritty, the experience of Neil beating him up until Billy’s resigned into thinking he’s going to die that night. He even had the feeling Neil planned all of it since Max and Susan were out and spending the night with a relative.

That was the first time he felt fear after a long time.

Neil’s a control freak, usually gets in Billy’s face until he caves in his demands. But his old man never went that far, usually just a smack on the head or a punch in the gut. He’s normally careful, aware that roughing up Billy too much might draw in suspicion.

That’s the reason why they ended up here in Hawkin’s Indiana. Neil’s became too paranoid that someone might have seen through his alibi that he saw Billy getting beat up on his drive home and rescued his son (Which is hilarious, Neil even came up with a scenario like a dispute in a game of basketball. Dumb fuck realized it’s only a matter of time before the police figures out nothing like that happened in any court near their house.)

And Billy had tried to appease Neil, half out of fear, the other because he has this sinking realization that, no, it was not dying that he’s afraid of, it’s the thought of Neil doing it that scares him.

It makes him sick. Thinking of Neil winning, much more of him probably finding a way to divert the blame, attempting to claim innocence. And, that idea? Of Neil not remorseful enough to confess? Fucking broke a part of him even though Billy doesn’t feel anything for Neil anymore than that distant memory of loving a father when he was a naive kid who didn’t know anything.

But Steve Harrington happened.

It shouldn’t be a question who Billy’s going to follow and humor between the two.

Neil had been nothing but an abusive prick who hits him whenever Billy tries to step out of the line.

Steve didn’t even know him and stood before death for him.

That’s why this morning, Billy and Steve waited for Max, toasted bagel with sunny side up and cheese on top, Harrington doing most of the enthusiastic talking when Fly to the rainbow plays. Billy pretends he’s not fully interested but when Steve abruptly stopped, he immediately turned, almost choked when he saw Harrington’s huge grin.

“What?” Billy asked after swallowing.

“Not too loud, this one,” Steve said, pointing to the car stereo. “Actually, sounds a little sad. I like it though.”

Billy hums, taking the paper towel he ripped out of the roll in Steve’s kitchen to wipe it on his face. “I’ll make you a mixtape one of these days. Just so I can stop hearing your trash music whenever I come over.”

“Elitist,” Steve accuses. “So much that we even have paper towels on our lap like we’re being served with Billy Hargrove’s Godly music in a fancy restaurant.”

“That’s so we won’t make a mess, especially you. You eat like a slob,” Billy tries not to smile when he hears the other’s scandalized gasp. “Also, where are you getting these words, Stevie? Is it from the dictionary underneath your bed?”

Steve blinks, convincingly befuddled. “I have a dictionary there?”

“Pretty boy, you don’t need to be shy, you highlighted a lot of words there. Looked like you’re onto something.”

Billy waited for a reply but Steve honestly looking like he couldn’t remember. Which is somewhat unbelievable since the dictionary looks weathered from careless folding of pages and a smear of what looks like ketchup. Billy found it when Steve fell asleep on him the other day and he’s rummaging the cassettes while sitting on the edge of the bed, stupidly hoping that Steve got something good enough to play, accidentally losing grip of one cassette.

It fell on the floor, and when Billy went to grab it with a hefty full of hissed out curses, his eyes caught on a thick book under the bed.

It’s the first reading book Billy’s seen in Steve’s room. Out of sheer curiosity, he plucked it out and chuckled when he realized it’s a fucking dictionary.

“Oh, _Oh shit,_ ” Steve suddenly muttered, getting rosy cheeked. “ _Fuck,_ that was, uh, me trying to pick out cool sounding words for my essay— Oh my God, _fucking_ embarrassing.”

Harrington appears genuinely ashamed. “Hey, being King Steve doesn’t mean you’re too cool for studying.”

 _“Hargrove,”_ Billy feels himself straightening up a little at the irritated call of his name. His _last_ name, from Steve who kept calling him Billy. It felt like he somehow got himself into trouble. “I’m dumb, okay? I remember fucking up that essay. Fuck, even Nancy saw that shit. No wonder she dumped my ass.”

Steve casually mentioning that, like that bitch is the smart one for being better off someone like him makes him mad.

“Pretty boy. If you’re going to shit on yourself for that bitch, ya better get out of my car, _now._ ”

“Woah,” Steve looked alarmed, like he didn’t expect Billy to be mad. “What? Wait, you’re mad?”

Billy wants to scream out yes! Yes of fucking course he’s mad! Mad at the person who’ve finally made him feel something else than fear and anger disparage his self for some stupid girl who doesn’t know what she wants!

“The only thing you’re dumb at is being stupid brave,” Billy says with conviction. “English is just a fuck damn language, you can improve that overtime. But being a selfless idiot who saves someone he barely knows is something that no book’s gonna teach you, entiendes?”

Steve blinks, and Billy wants to fucking be buried six feet under because reevaluating what he said made him realize it kind of don’t make sense.

“Uh, I don’t know how to take that? Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Both,” Billy voices out, trying to be indifferent. Maybe Steve will pass it off as a joke, _hopefully._ “Says how special you are, Stevie.”

It’s mortifying how it became silent after that. Billy looked ahead, free hand went and gripped the wheel tightly. He decided to shove the remaining bagel then, just to distract himself even though he’s lost appetite (damn, he’s usually smooth. When did he become a bumbling fool?)

Then he hears Steve snicker.

“The fuck you laughing at?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” Harrington explains, and when Billy looks at him he sees him struggling to stifle his laughter.

_“Harrington.”_

“No! Wait, don’t be mad! I'm not laughing at you! It’s just— I still can’t decide if I’m offended or flattered.”

Billy narrows his eyes in warning, Steve moves his free hand around while spluttering. “What!? I’m having my internal struggle here, okay!” But then covers his mouth after a few giggles came out. _“Shit.”_

 _  
_“You’re dead when we get out of here, Harrington.”

“I’m sorry! It’s just you’re so smooth with the ladies. I didn’t expect this.”

Billy grits his teeth. “You’re not a damn lady, Harrington.” (You’re _more_ than some random quick fuck, but damn if you’re not annoying at times.)

“I know,” Steve says, fluttering his lashes like a disney princess. “But I’m sure you think I’m prettier than most of them.”

“Hell yeah,” Billy replies to fuck with Steve (even though it’s the truth.) “But I don’t know, I think Mrs. Wheeler might be a competition.”

Harrington makes a face.

“Dude, I swear to God if you make a move on Nancy’s mom, next time I’ll offer you to the demodogs myself.”

Billy heaves out a hearty laugh. “You’re full of shit, Stevie.”

Steve ridiculously winks one eye after the other. “Only for you, Billy _baby._ ”

Fuck damn it, Steve Harrington doesn’t know how to play fair. Billy tries to laugh it off even though he’s already drowning with the sound of his heart in his ears.

“Such a fucking dork,” He says, and couldn’t stop himself from sounding too fond.

* * *

  
As revenge, Billy headlocks Steve and gives him a noogie right after they’re out of the car. Harrington whines at his precious hair gone messy, Billy flips him off with a grin.

Then he sees Tommy standing right across their parking spot, notably giving them a confused look. While Carol scoffs, like she’s got something better to do than glare at Billy.

It’s funny, really, how Tommy looks a bit upset when his eyes land on Harrington who’s busily fixing his hair.

Hagan is in denial. Billy can see longing in those eyes despite the heavy disgust.

If Billy squints a little, he could say there’s also a smidge of jealousy there.

_Huh._

“Billy! Earth to Billy Hargrove. _Oh no,_ I lost him, didn’t I?”

Billy snorts then turns to Steve, laughs when he sees him with his head down and a hand on his chest.

“What the hell are you on about?”

Steve perks up with that fake lamenting expression.

“Ohh, don’t mind me, just grieving the loss of my companion.”

“You make it sound like you lost a dog.”

“Yeah, you know Billy? Was a brave dog, that one.”

“Did he say he had a bit of a bitch dog? Name’s Steve, does it ring any bells ?”

“You speak dog language, Hargrove?” Steve replied, feigning awe. “Man, knew you’re a man of many talents.”

“Fuck you.”

* * *

Surprisingly, Tommy Hagan suddenly popped out of nowhere after school.

“Okay, so I don’t wanna meddle— but what the hell is the plan, man?

Billy’s really just minding his own business while waiting for Steve. He’s got a stick lit and leaning against the hood of his Camaro. Just plainly on stand by, waiting for his cue to move the moment Steve comes out of the building with his— whatever he forgot in the locker.

Tommy H. popping from out of nowhere and asking that question almost had Billy punching the living daylights out of him.

Which is understandable, given what he went through, it gets you jumpy, you know?

Hagan’s just lucky he’s caught him while in the middle of inhaling the smoke of his cig.

Still, Billy’s irritated as fuck, so he huffs out a ‘what do ya want, Hagan?’ to which the freckled asshole readily answered.

“Well, you’ve been hanging out with Steve lately so I was wondering what’s the motive behind it.”

Well, isn’t that rich? Tommy thinks they’re alike. Billy scoffs at the notion (Maybe alike in pining. But at least Billy’s not being a dick about it.)

“I don’t have any motive. I don’t go around fucking with people’s trust, Tommy.”

Tommy H. appears taken aback but quickly schools his expression when the person Billy’s waiting for appears before them with a confused frown.

“You got somewhere to be, Billy?”

Hearing his name from Steve and knowing it is why Tommy’s giving him a puzzled look has Billy smiling.

“Nah, just a step-sister and a King to drive around.”

Billy starts moving, ignoring Tommy completely. Which is a nod to Steve, and a hint to Hagan that he’s chosen side to whatever team against each other they’ve had before Billy even got into the picture. But then Steve, who’s snorted at his nickname, went ahead and gave the freckled idiot a ‘see you around, Tommy,’ before moving to get in the shotgun.

He could not believe this boy sometimes.

“What the fuck was that, Bambi?” Billy immediately says when they’re both in the car.

“Oh, great, another nickname,” Steve replied dryly while putting on his seatbelt. “Who am I next time? Hope it’s not something like—”

“Princess.”

“—That,” Steve gave Billy a look. “A king and a princess. Do I look like I’m my entire royal family to you, Hargrove?”

“Don’t worry you’ll be my Queen next time,” Steve’s about to retort but Billy holds up a hand in front of him. “Okay, we’ll get back on this later but just look at Tommy right now before he snaps out of it.”

Harrington arched a brow before obeying and blinked when he saw Hagan still standing outside, blocking their way, dumbfounded and staring at Steve.

Billy chuckled.

“Fucking broke him, Stevie.”

“I didn’t do shit,” Steve turned to glare at him. “It’s probably you since he’s with you earlier. Don’t put the blame on me for turning someone into a psychopath.”

“Nope,” He says, popping the p. “Pretty sure it’s just you being a sweet-tart telling him you’ll see him around.”

“What? That’s called being nice, Hargrove.”

Billy forlornly shakes his head.

“I’m quite hurt you’re givin’ me the last name treatment and Hagan gets a sweet ‘goodbye, see ya later’ kinda shit.”

“Oh my God,” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at Billy’s antics. “Are you for real?”

“Thought I was gonna be a King of something here, but hell, the Queen doesn’t even recognize me,” Billy fake-moped as he starts the car. “Might as well just call me the King of peasants,” He then hits the horn which jolts Tommy out of his stupor. “Begone, peasant!”

Steve doubles over when he saw Tommy scampering off like a spooked animal.

“That was mean!”

“You’re the one laughing!” Billy’s shoulders are shaking, trying to hold back his which is failing at the moment. “Fuck, his face though. Did ya see his face? Looked like I just slapped him outta his fantasy.”

Steve’s wiping down a tear when he asked. “What fantasy?”

“Well, I dunno but probably something to do with the Queen.”

“Oh, fuck off, Billy.”

“Aww, my name again. I’m so happy you’re not mad at me anymore, sweetheart.”

* * *

Tommy learned not to be an idiot milling around like what Billy’s planning with Steve is _his_ business after that (For now, the idiot still looks at them like they're a bunch of unreachable celebs most times.)

Although, next came Nancy Wheeler.

And his boy toy.

Which is, just _great._

People just can’t leave them alone, apparently.

But Billy should’ve seen this one coming.

Nancy’s been giving them the curious glances since the first time Harrington came out of his Camaro with him. Been sending them that ‘Oh, why is he hanging out with him and not us?’ look.

As if that needed an answer.

No wonder Nancy Wheeler can’t beat him in their shared classes.

Anyway, it all came to an end of not-so-discreet glances when Prissy Wheeler decided to approach Steve one day after school. Billy’s just done with his class and is heading to Steve’s locker to meet him there when he sees Nancy Wheeler with him.

It seems they’re having a fun conversation. Nancy’s all giggling and Steve may have his back on him but Billy could figure out that he’s making those hand gestures as he’s telling a story, most likely.

Which is endearing, Steve’s dorkish nature, but not so much when he’s being one to his ex.

Billy feels his gut clenching in— _fuck,_ jealousy. He’s jealous! Fuck damn it!

Not up to be on stand by and reel in simmering jealousy, Billy moved forward and casually swung an arm around Steve. “Heya, Wheeler,” He greets then put his tongue between his teeth.

Nancy’s smile vanishes and her brows shot up, but more in confusion. “Uhh, hi?”

“Mind if I take Stevie away? We’re planning on making pasta.”

Steve elbows him. “Dude, don’t tell them we’re making pasta after school. I was just boasting about us getting a pass on this high end bar a few towns over.”

“Is that right?” It’s evident that Steve’s pulling his leg, and he’s planning on getting even-steven. “You don’t like them knowing how domestic we are, princess?” He purred.

Harrington, used to his flirting, scoffs at him. Meanwhile, Wheeler gapes at the implication.

Huh, seems like the priss can’t take a joke.

“I’m fucking with you, Wheeler,” Billy deadpans.

“Huh? But we are making pasta?”

Damn, Steve Harrington can’t stop being cute, can he?

Billy tugs him closer, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Course we are, pretty boy.”

Nancy looks like a tomato, either from anger or from embarrassment, Billy’s not sure. (He’s certain that he doesn’t care, though.)

Jonathan Byers, knight in shining armor, appears out of nowhere.

“Hey, Nance, uh, hi Steve, Billy.”

“Byers,” Billy blandly uttered while Mr. sunshine greets all jovial that he had to tugs him to stop being a saint. He gets a ‘Hey, man! Quit jostling me around,’ in return. Which irritated him. (Can’t he see Billy’s trying to help out?)

“I’ll, uh, talk to you later, Steve?” Wheeler said, and Jonathan awkwardly gives them a nod, hand raised as a goodbye.

Steve nods, all smiley and unfazed by his cheating ex and her boyfriend. Billy grumpily dragged Harrington away.

* * *

“So…”

Billy fleets his gaze to Steve who’s mixing the pasta sauce beside him while he’s in charge of making sure the pasta will be cooked to al dente.

“So..?” He repeats, wanting to know what’s on Steve’s mind even if he’s still a bit pissed at him.

“Well, it’s been almost two weeks that you’ve driven me around, and I've not had a single episode since then.”

Billy grunts, internally cursing from the suddenness of Steve’s indirect approach. Externally, he’s pretending that he isn’t hurt by it.

“So ya want me to stop driving you around, is that it? Don’t need to beat around the bush, pretty boy. We both know I can’t be your driver forever.”

It’s not like Billy assumed he could keep Steve for a long time, and he knows he gets thorny with it, especially when it’s the boy who’s trying to cut ties with their routine.

Wait..? Does it have anything to do with Wheeler?

Did she somewhat put crazy ideas in Steve’s head? (Like how she’s probably seen how he looks at Steve sometimes? The priss likes to watch, after all. Add in that story he got from Byers? Well, it’s no wonder if they’re a match made in heaven.)

“Billy,” He hears Steve, exasperated. “You know that doesn’t mean we don’t get to hang out, right? I like your company, okay? And, actually, I do have a favor to ask.”

Billy sighs, out in relief, but made it seem like he’s exhausted of Steve’s shenanigans.

“Favor, huh? What can I do for the King?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, stop calling me that when you’re pissed.”

“What?” Billy turns to him, disbelieving because how the fuck did Harrington know? “I ain’t pissed.”

“Fuck you ain’t, sure, _William._ ”

“Hey!” Steve tries to shut him up by shoving the wooden spatula in front of his face. “Taste,” He commands and Billy shakes his head in disbelief.

“Won’t that spoil the food real quick?” Billy points out but stupidly relents and moves his upper body forward to get a taste.

“Dude we’re so not cooking this for the entire week. I’d pack some for our lunch tomorrow, though. Or you can save some for Max.”

“I think it’s good enough,” Billy comments then laughs when a thought hits him. “Save some for that shitbird? I better make sure to spit on it then.”

Steve makes a face. “Gross!” He says then goes to try it himself. Billy unconsciously licks his lips when he realized Harrington’s tasting off from the same side where his mouth has been.

“Anyway,” Harrington says, picking up the conversation that he himself cut off. “As I was saying; I have a favor.”

Billy’s back on his task, less irritated. “Shoot, pretty boy.”

“Well, I was thinking if I could pay you to tutor me.”

“Tutor you..?” Billy glances at Steve, wondering if he’s joking. But the boy’s busy with stirring the contents of the pot and there isn’t a trace of amusement on him. “What makes ya think I’m capable of tutoring ya?”

A smile lit up on Steve’s lips. “Uh, ‘cause you’re smart, duh?”

“Huh? where’d you learn that?”

Steve stops his stirring to ponder, most likely thinking of a comeback. But then he shrugs. “Heard it from Nance, actually,” He answers as if it’s nothing.

As if talking to Nancy Wheeler after what she did is nothing.

“Ohh, yeah, Wheeler,” Billy grumbles. “Can’t understand why you were talking to her.”

Steve’s looking at him like he’s the one with a loose screw. “Uhhh, nothing wrong with that, right?”

Billy chews on his lower lip, frustrated.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, but only an idiot would talk to his ex who’ve dumped him for that creep.”

“Hey, Jonathan’s not that bad.”

Wow, now Harrington’s defending her ex’s boyfriend. Even looked at him like he’s said the most offending thing, _fucking_ hell. (Billy’s the one who feels offended here, and that’s on Steve’s behalf. For fuck’s sake!)

Billy shrugs, opting to shut his trap because he feels like he’s going to boil over and cause a spat down with Harrington. “Yeah, sure, whatever,” He says dismissively.

It took Harrington a few moments of getting ignored and Billy cutting the conversation short for Steve to read the air.

* * *

“Come on, Billy. Stop giving me the silent treatment, please?”

Billy ignores Steve’s whining, pretends that the rerun episode of M.A.S.H is taking all his attention. He’s just so pissed at Harrington, to the point that the moment the pasta’s done, he’d served himself and went straight to the living room.

Usually, they’d eat at the dining table like decent people. But today’s just not the day.

“Jeez, dude, I don’t even know why you’re mad at me.”

Yeah, because apparently caring too much puts a person into this kind of situation that you’re mad at them for being too selfless.

“Like, is it Jonathan? Which is— I don’t have an idea why’d you’d get mad at me for defending him. Or is it Nancy? I don’t think talking to your ex is illegal, though. Wait— maybe this is how you’re telling me that you don’t want to tutor me?”

 _“For fuck’s sake,”_ Billy muttered under his breath before putting his plate on the coffee table. “I just don’t get you, okay?”

“You don’t get me, how..?”

“Don’t get why you have to be so nice and forgiving you might as well replace Jesus on the cross.”

Steve gapes at him. “What? Me? Nice?”

“Yes!” Billy sneered. “You're too fucking nice! These people have hurt you, Steve. And you just casually forgive them, defend them like they deserve that shit.”

Silence took over after Billy’s outburst and only the tv’s droning sound could be heard. Within that small interval, there’s this feeling of ‘I fucked up,’ that’s filling up Billy’s lungs, preventing him from taking in a breath.

It also doesn’t help that his statement is quite hypocritical. Billy’s one of those people who’s been graced with Steve Harrington’s forgiveness. Him, the fucking bully who was with Tommy H.

Who messed with Steve until the boy took him in his arms and used himself as a human shield to make sure Billy has a chance to survive.

Fuck, Billy feels himself tearing up.

“You’re too good, Stevie. You should know that,” Billy quietly declared, almost choking in the middle of talking because— _fuck,_ can his self stop being embarrassing? He’s getting emotional over Mr. Nice guy.

_Jesus Christ._

To save face, Billy picked up his plate, attempting casual as can be even though he’s certain he’s not fooling anyone. Steve let him off the hook, didn’t even talk, didn’t prod further.

They simply ate in silence, letting the subject unaddressed for now.

* * *

“Hey, I got that, just go and watch tv,” Steve softly utters from behind him.

Billy huffs, but lets go of the sponge. “Fine,” He grunted, washing his hands under the running faucet before turning it off and then turned to Steve without looking him in the eye. “Actually, maybe I should head off. I still needed to get the shithead from the arcade, anyway.”

“Huh? But it’s still early.”

“You know, I still have somewhere to be,” Billy supplies. He’s getting too agitated, he’s been wanting to crawl out of his skin since earlier. “I’ll catch ya tomorrow, yeah? Make sure you drive like a grandma, don’t wanna hear you getting in a damn accident.”

Steve laughs but it’s strained. “Yeah, of course, I won’t,” He then clears his throat which made Billy’s shoulders stiffen, afraid that Harrington’s finally gonna address the elephant in the room. “Umnn, you still up for that tutoring? I’ll pay.”

 _You don’t even need to pay me._ Billy thinks, his shoulders sagging. He then shrugs. “Sure, tell me when you want me, pretty boy,” He starts moving, trying to normally walk away than what he wants which is straight-up run. “Catch ya later.”

“Bye Billy,” He hears Steve mutter, and Billy grits his teeth, hating how the boy sounded so forlorn.

* * *

“Billy..!”

Billy’s already outside when he hears Harrington. Taken by surprise, he turns around only to find Steve Harrington standing by the door with a meek smile.

“Um, I’m glad that you care for me.”

Okay, now that’s just plain unfair. Steve just can’t sneak up with that kind of attack.

“What?”

Steve smirks like he already knew he’s going to break Billy. “You care,” He says, almost smug. “You do and I’m thankful. I care for you too, by the way.”

“Now, hold up, Harrington,” Billy responds, but the fucker’s cutting him off already.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll pack our lunches so don’t bring anything. Also, next time let’s bake some pizza, yeah?”

Billy’s never given a chance to refute because Harrington closed the door after talking.

* * *

Steve caught him on lunch and made him eat the lunch he packed for him. Billy pretends he’s still a bit pissed, but eventually thawed and gave in when Steve started telling him crazy ideas.

“You know, like a bunch of worlds? Parallel shit? Where another you get the same problem but you choose a different path.”

“When did you get into science fiction, Stevie? You starting to become a nerd?”

Steve snorts and murmured. “Not like I didn’t see you bring that Tolkien book when we hung out last weekend.”

“I heard that,” Billy quips before putting a forkful of pasta in his mouth. Man, did it taste delicious. Especially with the thought they both made it.

Steve pokes out his tongue that got a ‘very mature, princess,’ from him. Harrington shut his mouth a few after that, but being talkative is his forte so, of course, Billy already expected when Steve opened another conversation.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to Mr. Clarke, actually. The brats mentioned he’s the one who gave them a bunch of ideas about this upside-down shit. Maybe he’s got an idea about different universes.”

Billy still can’t believe they’re naming off interdimensional shit over a game. Also, the fact that Steve’s really into this topic about a parallel universe.

“I don’t know what’s happening to you, Stevie Wonder,” He says to the boy. Then he squints his eyes and points the fork at him. “But you better not be keeping secrets from me if it’s about that other world crap.”

“No,” Steve readily answers, giggling at Billy and his threatening with a fork. “None from the upside-down,” He chirpily adds before his expression dims. “That, I assure you.”

Billy raises a brow, couldn’t help but feel like Steve’s hinting that it's from something else.

* * *

The next time Steve brought it up, they were preparing for the long overdue baking of pizza on a weekend noon.

Billy’s in the middle of making the pizza dough while Steve took the opportunity to tie his hair back. Billy’s, that is. Even had the audacity to scold him when he complained about the sudden assault to his precious locks.

“Quit moving!”

“You’re fucking tying my hair, pretty boy!”

Steve lightly kicks him in the shin. “Stop your twitching, damn it! I almost got it.”

“If you were touching your own hair then this wouldn’t be a problem!”

Alas, Steve got what he wanted. Billy frowned at him when he pops up beside him to have a look. Grumbles when he heard him whistle.

“Damn, Hargrove. Didn’t know it’ll fit you so well.”

Billy tries not to flush, instead scoffs and asks where he acquired a hair tie and nearly hurls flour at Harrington when he got an answer.

“Nancy’s scrunchy?!? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Steve, the fucking asshole, laughed at his outburst.

“Yeah, it’s black though, or onyx— whatever, it’s yours now.”

Billy sears him with a glare until Harrington raises up both hands.

“What? I found it in my drawer, couldn’t think of anything to do with it than tie your hair up.”

Woah, wait a darn minute. Okay..? So Harrington thought of him?

“So…” Billy drawls, licking his lips as he contemplates. “You thought of me?”

It dawns on Steve then, what Billy’s implying, and his cheeks burned up. “W-Wait—”

Billy didn’t let him explain bullshit like what Harrington always do to him. Immediately he turned to him, and Steve flailed back like a spooked animal.

“Let me get this straight. Out of all the things to do with that scrunchy like, I dunno, maybe returning it to its owner—? What you had in mind instead is to see it on me?”

Steve gets more flustered as Billy stalks forward, his feet unconsciously stepping back.

“Uh, I, well— yeah?”

The way Steve squeaked the last word punched Billy in the guts. It’s just too fucking cute. “Yeah?” He repeats with a shit-eating grin. “Glad I occupy your mind, pretty boy.” He purred out, shameless, then went back to his task like nothing happened.

“Asshole,” Steve whispered after a moment when he’s gathered himself.

Billy merely laughs.

“Wish I could time travel,” Steve, the weirdo, stated after a beat.

It pulled another bout of laughter from Billy. “You’re back on that again?”

“Yeah!” Harrington said, sounding eager and suspiciously proud. “You know what’s cool?”

Billy glances at Steve and sees him with his arms crossed. What’s funny is that he’s donning twinkly eyes and a wide grin. Like he’s sharing something cool and not straight up nerdy.

“If I could travel back in time, which is, like, most likely not going to happen in this Universe according to Mr. Clarke. Anyway, if I could though I’d be able to punch you, turn back time again, and not do it this time. You won’t even know what I did.”

“Right, because the key point of time traveling is to punch people in the face and rewind again to pretend you didn’t,” Billy deadpans. Then his head tilted when something about what Harrington said piqued his interest. “Wait, what do you mean by not going to happen in this Universe..?”

Steve huffs out an exasperated breath like Billy’s dumb. “No, I mean, maybe it’s possible but harder? It’s easier to make like a wormhole when you’re traveling to another Universe than dig around in this timeline.”

“Pretty boy…” Billy drawls out, amused. “Now you’re implying many-worlds. Damn, you are turning into a nerd!”

“What? Is that a bad thing?”

Billy shrugs. Then grins. “Not really. Just keep ninety percent of me in that pretty head of yours, okay?”

“Fuck off, Hargrove.”

* * *

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Are you dropping off Max for that snowball thing they have in two weeks?”

“Yeah? Why you ask?” Billy’s pouring hot sauce all over his slice. “You going to help organize there? Heard Wheeler and Byers are though.”

“Billy, I’m not. Even if I were to, it doesn’t bother me that they are gonna be there.”

“Which, really, still confuses me. Didn’t ya just break up with her just a week or two ago? You looked pretty devastated before getting in the shower if I remember correctly.”

“Oh, someone’s keeping tabs on me, how sweet.”

“Couldn’t help, even gave you a pep talk cause you look like you’re gonna have a meltdown.”

“Was not!” Steve refutes, offended. “I was minding my own beeswax when someone said _‘Don't take it too hard, man. Pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about,’_ what a fucking asshole.”

Billy nearly choked hearing Steve’s impersonation of him.

“Fuck, Harrington! I didn’t sound that goofy!”

Steve takes a bite, chuckling. “So did,” He quips.

“Did not,” Billy grumbled. “And fucking swallow before you talk, it’s fucking gross.”

Harrington, of course, did not relent. Even though he obeyed Billy and didn’t talk, he improvised by making silly gestures with his hands and face.

“Don’t touch me with that hand, it’s got grease all over it,” He says in disgust, pointing at Steve’s right hand, and leaps out of his chair when the fucker shot his grubby hand at him. “You dickhead!”

Steve doubles over, and Billy’s amazed the idiot didn’t fall off the chair.

“Fucking brat,” He murmurs as he got back on the chair. “And some cows say you’ve become mature and more charming? Who the fuck are they kidding?”

When Harrington recollects himself, there’s a faint, teasing smile on his glistening lips (Billy swears, because fuck, that is distracting!)

“Well, someone told me I’m too nice.”

(Oh, _shit,_ this fucker.) Billy grits his teeth, trying to stop the oncoming blush that’s heating up his cheeks. “Dunno who’d say that, must be blind,” He replied, keeping an indifferent facade.

“Oh?” Steve looked like he’s a cat who got the canary. “Well, he’s occupying ninety percent of my brain though, like he wanted. So spoiled, and he says I’m the brat?”

Billy shoots him a glare. “Yeah? Thought you told him to fuck off?”

“Never said I won’t do what they say though.”

Fucking hell, if Billy didn’t know better, he’d ravish Steve Harrington then and there.

But he knows better, so Billy backtracks the conversation after giving Steve an eye-roll.

“Well. You trying to get in my pants aside—”

“ _Oh,_ so only you get to flirt to fuck with me.?”

Billy snorts before continuing. “I will go drop the shitbird off— you planning to ask me on a date?”

“Don’t have to, you’d say yes before I even ask.”

“Damn right.” (Factually precise, Harrington didn’t need to know that though.)

Steve bursts out a laugh, and Billy silently chuckles with him.

* * *

“You’ve been awfully happy these days.”

Billy didn’t need to hear this from Max of all people. Especially not in the morning drive to school.

“Well, can’t stay pissed like I’ve been robbed of everything I knew, can I?”

Max shrugs his remark off and instead went for what she’s aiming.

“You still hang out with Steve, right?”

“What about him?” He asks, gaze fleeting curiously at Max who seems to be pondering if she’s going to keep talking.

“Well, you know he sometimes pick up Dustin after AV.”

Billy sighed, now Max is taking too long explaining shit, great.

“You’re not dumb, Maxine. You know I usually hang out with the guy— so what about it?”

Max, for a few, kept quiet, for the second time. Billy would appreciate that any other times but not now.

“Uhh, so he kept asking Mr. Clarke about time travel and multiple universes.”

“Many-worlds,” Billy corrects.

“Whatever,” Max replied before continuing. “So, the party’s a bit curious— and wary. You know Steve used to not give a single fuck about that, right?”

“And if he is now after that shit we went through?” Billy gave Max a look. “Don’t you think it’s plausible that Steve’s curious ‘cause he’s been through shit?”

“He has! Before this, last year from what I heard. And he never picked up any interest until now.”

Steve gave all the details about the upside-down shenanigan that Billy knows what the shitbird’s talking about.

“So? Maybe being through it twice snapped him out of, you know, denial?”

“You’re the one who’s in denial,” Max whispered, slouching into the seat.

“Denial of what?”

“You didn’t know Steve before that night. Maybe try and ask those who did if he changed, I don’t know, drastically?”

“Still plausible if he did change,” Billy states, gripping his wheel tight when he asked a question. “Don’t tell me you think he’s possessed like that Byers kid?”

“Possible,” Max utters, almost nonchalant, unaware that this possibility she’s talking about like it’s nothing is everything to him. “I’m not sure— but, we want to be sure.”

“Yeah, of course, you guys are fucking paranoid.”

* * *

_“You guys are fucking paranoid,”_ Max says behind Billy as he marches out of the AV room after having a chat to Mr. Clarke about a Steve Harrington who’s been asking a bunch of questions. “Yeah, says the guy who wanted to have a private chat with Mr. Clarke.”

“Can it!” Billy hissed, marching to where he parked his car.

Billy got in the Camaro and immediately played his mixtape, putting it on high volume to drown whatever the shitbird’s gonna say when she hops in. He then leaned his head back, trying to think.

Mr. Clarke’s seems skeptical at first about Billy’s inquiry of Steve but easily gave in when he mentioned they’re partners in a school presentation.

Apparently, Steve Harrington’s been seeing Mr. Clarke a lot. Been asking him a lot of questions about his favorite space and time topic.

Billy would’ve been amused like the usual for Steve’s eagerness. But since Max has put that idea in his head, Billy’s torn up about what to feel right now.

A few moments of recollecting himself, Billy turned down the volume and faced Max who’s already glaring at him with judging eyes.

“Tell me, what’s your nerds squad’s plan about this?”

“Still on observation, Dustin’s doing most of the work.”

“Did he find anything so far?”

“More nice and caring,” Max says but then shrugs. “We’re not totally relying on him, he’s biased on Steve.”

“That’s what you call drastically? You’d rather him be a douchebag to you guys for him to be considered normal?!”

“Not the point!”

“So what’s your point?!”

“Mike told us that El felt something wrong about Steve, okay!”

Billy, who’s just screaming his lungs out at Max, slowly deflates back into his seat with a confused frown.

“El..? The Carrie girl?”

Max solemnly nods. “Yeah, shithead, the one whom we helped close the gate,” she looks away. “You know, she was the one who ripped that gate open, right?”

“Opened a gateway to an inter-dimensional world,” Billy supplies, feeling numb all over. “Did she, uh, say what’s wrong?”

The shitbird chances a glance at him, gets this pitying expression that she quickly hides as she averts her gaze.

“No, that’s the problem, Billy. She could not pinpoint it but she’s sure that there’s something off this Steve.”

This Steve, like whoever’s with them isn’t even their Steve. His Stevie.

Billy couldn’t breathe.

“Who else knows?”

“Just us, for now.”

_For now._

Like it’s a problem that would soon need the attention of the Chief of police, Wheeler, Byers family— the fucking government.

“Fuck,” Billy hissed, hurt and frustrated. _“Fuck!”_

The sudden blast of horn from the blue Camaro spooked some of the parents and kids who are on their way to their car.

* * *

There’s not a chance that Billy could face Steve the next day. So he skips school after sending off Max, wants to curl up somewhere but doesn’t truly have a home in Old Cherry Lane so he spends his time elsewhere (He thinks of Steve’s room, unruly despite the oddly plaid patterned design that contradicts its owner. It stands out the most amongst the pristine places of Casa Harrington, lived in and oozing warmth from the memories made there. It’s home, it will always be, even if it’s proven that his home is not who he seems to be.)

The quarry is the first place to go, but Billy tucks in that choice when he realized Hopper might see him while patrolling. And Hopper would sure interrogate, ask why he’s not in school and drinking alcohol, might even call his father not knowing that he’s sending Billy to his deathbed.

So he goes to Benny’s instead, spends a couple of bucks there to laze around until it bores him and the waitress has sent tons of inquiring look, silently judging because Billy hasn’t really ordered anything for two hours. He leaves then, giving a tip to compensate, but doesn’t have an idea of where else to go.

Ending is going back to Hargrove-Mayfield house, deciding to stay locked up in his room, watched the ceiling as if there are answers deep within the tiniest cracks. Until his eyes go weary, lead-like, closes—

Wakes up with the feeling of dread.

His throat’s tight, lungs pitifully overexerting as he gathers breath, his sweat cold and biting due to the frigid temperature.

Billy gets up, groaning, eyes squinted as he chases away the last visage of Harrington in his dream who was softly gazing up at him from his bed.

Beautiful and unforgettable. Just like his mom in her white dress, expectantly waiting for him at the shore, blue eyes soft and happy.

 _Haunting,_ it’s haunting how Billy compares again.

This time it’s dreadful; the idea that Harrington might leave him too.

Like it’s fate that those he love will always leave Billy Hargrove.

* * *

“So, how’s Steve?”

Is the first thing Max says when she gets in the car, Billy tosses his stick out of the window and shoots her a confused glare through his sunglasses.

“Why the fuck are you asking that?”

Max did not give an answer, just sent him an unsettling gaze.

“You didn’t go to school, did you?”

Billy did not let it show on his face, but his heart is suddenly hammering against his chest; Max’s stare seems too foreboding, and she knows that there’s only one person in his school that Billy cares about.

“What happened..?”

Max heaves out a breath, a sign that what she bears is bad news. Billy gulps, preparing for the worst, even though he’s aware he is no expert in that.

“He was supposed to pick up Dustin today but instead Jonathan showed up with Nancy. Told us that Steve’s sent home before lunch time. He had uh, well, case of nosebleed before passing out.”

 _“Jesus Christ,”_ Billy spat out, gripping the wheel tightly.

Out of all the days for an episode like that to happen, it just had to be when Billy skips school.

Billy feels furious, teeth gritted in his despair to find control.

_“Maxine.”_

The shitbird startles, and Billy isn’t certain if Max knows how important this is, Steve is— to him. She should though, should have seen from his reaction yesterday. If not then she’s a lost case.

“We’re going to Harrington’s mansion.”

Max didn’t argue but Billy can feel her stare, curious or confused, he surmises.

Either way, he doesn’t care.

* * *

Steve opens the door upon a few rings, and Billy, bordering on smacking the doorbell repeatedly after the first was left unanswered, did not feel a drop in his budding worry when he sees Harrington.

“Billy,” Steve greets, wispy, his smile ghostly against his ashen complexion.

Billy felt his heart drop as he takes these all in, the bullshit Max fed him yesterday chucked off into the trash bin.

It just won’t happen, Billy surmises, whoever, whatever is in front of him, he— _he can’t hate._

Can’t fucking imagine all those moments were fake, cannot find it in himself to think someone selfless could have an agenda.

Whoever he had memories with, Billy just can’t be part of this jury the nerds have made. Can’t judge, not when he’s a fucking goner for Steve Harrington.

“Stevie,” Billy greets back with a signature grin. “You okay?”

“Not really,” Steve answered with a meek smile, his lips thinning. “Actually, no, I’m not,” he says more firmly, casting Billy an apologetic look. “You free? Wanna stay with me for a bit?”

Billy knows a call of silent plea. Is well aware of a person who’s asking for help. He used to be one, after all.

“Sure,” Casually comes out of his mouth. “My, uh, step-sister’s with me though. She’s in the car.”

Steve softly nods, pondering, seemingly too tired to check if Max is indeed in Billy’s car. “There should be some movies that she would like in the stash.”

Billy hums, his mind occupied with thinking of whatever could help bring his boy back to his healthy self.

“You got groceries there, pretty boy?”

“I wanted us to make something today so yeah,” Steve’s brows furrowed in contemplation. “Uh, you weren’t in school, were you? Didn’t see your car earlier.”

There’s a lump in Billy’s throat at the idea of Steve wondering where he is, Steve passing out and he wasn’t even there to help.

“Yeah, alarm didn’t ring,” Billy lied easily.

Steve nods, and a voice in Billy’s head argues that if Harrington could be this gullible then how could he even be a threat to anyone?

* * *

Watching Steve all glum and sickly isn’t mentally healthy for Billy. It gets him twitchy to the point he impatiently asked if Steve could get some rest upstairs while he decides on what to make.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” Steve answered, pleading with his bambi eyes, standing by the kitchen entrance, blanket wrapped all around him.

Billy turns back to the mushroom he’s chopping with a huff. “Then come over here, Stevie. I don’t bite.”

“Well, we’re not sure about that,” Harrington quickly hurls back, always up for banter, but Billy could hear the tiredness in his voice.

So he puts the knife on the board and turns around, sees Steve making his way over. “Not scared?” Billy teases with an arched brow.

“No, not you, not anymore,” The boy easily says, makes Billy hurt in the best way.

“Yeah?” Is all Billy could say.

Steve smiles, a bit shy. “Yeah.”

* * *

Billy’s stirring the soup while Steve decided to perch a seat beside him and sit there. The boombox that’s usually in Steve’s room is on the counter right behind them, playing sappy pop songs much to his displeasure.

But Steve’s bopping along, much livelier than when he first saw him, so Billy concedes.

Besides, Stevie doesn’t have that bad of a voice, he could actually hold a tune if he wasn’t messing around with half the lyrics.

“By the way, pretty boy. Who took you home?”

Steve perks up. “Oh! Umn, I asked for Hopper. They tried calling here but obviously no one was here to answer.”

“Could have volunteered,” Billy gruffed out, irritated again at the prospect that he took off on a day that Steve could’ve used his help. “Fuck, sorry I wasn’t, uh, there.”

“Wasn’t your fault, Billy,” Harrington says, and Billy chances a glance, his heart going giddy from Steve’s sweet smile. “You didn’t know.”

_But I shouldn’t have fucked off, should’ve known better than to leave you by yourself._

The doorbell ringing catches both of their attention. Billy shoots Steve a confused look. But Harrington’s wearing the same expression as him.

“Guys!” Max shouts from the living room. “I know who it is, I’ll get the door!”

Billy and Steve expected one person, but what they instead heard is the gaggle of kids, Dustin dashing through the kitchen like a mad bull.

“Steve! Buddy!” Dustin shouts, almost knocking Harrington over with the force of his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “Are you okay?!?

Billy barks an unamused sound, seeing firsthand how Steve almost knocked his head on the high-marbled counter, and Dustin retrieves his hand with an apologetic smile. Steve laughs, turning sideways, body facing Billy but his head’s turned to Dustin.

“I’m fine now,” Steve says, eyes darting to Billy for a brief moment before it goes back and past Dustin. “You brought the whole brat squad with you?”

“Dude, you’ve made us worry, okay? Passing out like that again? Did you get another seizure?”

“Nah, just passed out from what I heard and a lot of nosebleeds.”

Billy drifts out of the conversation and goes back to cooking, swirling soup round and round with a wooden spatula, thinking of ordering pizza for the nerd squad even if he’s still irate that all of them are conniving behind Steve’s back.

That’s the smart thing to do, if he’s being honest. Billy just… doesn’t know how to go against Steve Harrington. It won’t make sense with his heart and his mind that unanimously concluded it will serve the boy for all its worth.

But as he’s staring at the the slowly churning creamy concoction, there’s an idea that popped from out of nothing.

That if Steve Harrington is possessed, it would be a different matter. Because it’s about saving, not obliterating (but the true problem lies within the thought of what if those memories made were not with the real Steve. What if he’s being manipulated? What if it’s all part of a big plan that Billy could not foresee anything else other than it’ll tore his heart apart before it physically tears anything.)

“Curly,” Billy interrupts, eyes widening in slight surprise when he sees Dustin is not alone now with hovering around Steve, the other party members as well including his step-sister. “The hell? When did the other chicken-shits get here?”

Max rolls her eyes. “Uh? While you were way up in your…” Steve turns to her and she coughs out the last second. _“Head.”_

Billy’s feels his lips pull upward. “Well, since you’re here, why don’t you order pizza for you and your nerd squad?”

Mike, Wheeler junior, frowns at him (very ungrateful if you ask him since Billy’s ordering out of his pocket.) Max scampers off with a squeal, Dustin running as well with a ‘Oh! He was gonna ask me first so let me get my favorite!’ Lucas shooting him an awkward look (Billy did apologize on the second day since Steve’s adamant he should.) Harrington gazing up at him with a proud grin.

“I can pay,” Harrington says a few later when all the kids disappeared, most likely to order everything off the menu. “You’re already cooking for me so…”

Billy hums, turns to the stove and scoops a little of soup with the spatula and gently hovers it inches away from Steve’s lips.

“Taste.”

Harrington blows before taking a sip. “Mmn, it’s good.”

“Yeah? Think I could make money off it?”

Steve laughs. “Now, not to crush your dreams but—”

“— _Stevie,_ you’re breaking my heart.”

“— I’d rather just keep you cooking for me.”

Billy barks out a hearty laugh.

“Damn, possessive, aren’t we?”

Harrington winks at him. “Sure am, Hargrove.”

Steve Harrington, despite still looking a bit too pale to consider well, still managed to steal Billy’s breath away with a goddamn flirty smile and a wink.

“Well, pay the rest of whatever I cannot afford.”

Harrington laughs. “Split the bill? I like that.”

* * *

The nerd squad is still unleashing chaos in the living room when Billy decides to ask Steve if he wants to have a break from it.

Steve, who’s already had his head lolling moments after consuming a bowl of warm, creamy soup, mumbled an affirmation of wanting some peace.

Billy takes him upstairs, arm wrapped around the taller boy, steady hand on his shoulder as they walk side by side.

Steve looks so soft with a baby blue blanket wrapped around him. Billy can’t believe how far he’s gotten to see him like this.

He laid sleepy Steve on the bed, rearranged his blanket until he gives up because Harrington is not exactly light to completely pull the damn cover off him and fix it. So he went and got an extra from the supply and tucks Harrington in it.

Billy’s in the middle of inspecting his work when Steve peels his eyes open and smiles at him.

“Thanks, Billy,” He softly says. Then his smile vanished in a blink. Doubt and fear murking within his filmy eyes. “You’re not leaving yet, right?”

“Wouldn’t until you boot me out,” Billy teasingly replied. Steve’s face lights up with a grin.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Billy went down to grab the boombox right after he made sure that Steve’s asleep.

On the way to the kitchen he turns his head to the living room where the nerd squad is and sees them looking back, half of them wary (Max looks like her grumpy, bitchy self with a tad bit of confusion. Dustin’s in between bemused and awed at him for some reason. Like an eager puppy. Huh.)

“You shitheads have a lot of explaining to do later,” Billy says evenly. “We’ll get to it when I come down later.”

“Is Steve okay?” Dustin quips right after he’s done talking.

“He’s sleeping. So don’t be too loud.”

Dustin saluted as an answer, Max rolls her eyes at him.

Billy suddenly has that epiphany of why Steve’s fond of Dustin.

It’s because they’re the same brand of dork.

* * *

_Good time for a change_   
_See, the luck I've had_   
_Can make a good man_   
_Turn bad…_

Out of all the songs on the radio he picked, The Smiths just had to croon the song that resonates with how he feels at the moment.

A stroke of cursed luck.

_So please please please_   
_Let me, let me, let me_

Carefully, Billy sits down at the edge of the mattress, his body facing the foot of the bed. He watches Steve who’s sleeping with his mouth open. Snoring away like a damn baby.

It should be hilarious. But the image sees through it that it wrenches something painfully fond in his heart.

_Let me get what I want_   
_This time…_

Billy reaches out to card his fingers on Steve’s hair. A soft grin blooming when he realized that it’s softer than it looks.

_Haven't had a dream in a long time_   
_See, the life I've had_   
_Can make a good man bad_

He knows he’s a fuckhead. A breathing trash, waste of space, numerous counts of insults that Neil could name.

So if the God out there he’s forgotten is real. Then probably the feeling is mutual.

_So for once in my life_   
_Let me get what I want_

But if were to bargain, just for one last time. Just for the sake of one last wish that could be granted.

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

Billy would wish it’d be him instead.

That if there’s a chance that Steve’s under the influence of that monster, Billy would rather he’d host it instead.

God knows he’d trade anything to keep Steve Harrington safe.

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

And God knows it’ll be the first time it’s going to answer his call if it did.

  
  


* * *

“He’s playing the Smiths.”

El stopped looking around the oddly patterned room Steve visioned for them to stare at him. They’re both sitting at the edge of the bed, side by side.

Steve’s fondly looking ahead, particularly staring at nothing, mostly tuned in with the song that’s crooning softly around them. It sounds submerged underwater. But it shouldn’t be a surprise, they’re deep within Steve’s consciousness, after all.

“Billy,” El says, not a question of doubt in her tone.

“Billy,” Steve affirmed anyway. “Billy Hargrove,” His expression softens. “My Billy. Can I keep him?”

“You’re supposed to,” El answered. “You chose this world, Steve.”

“But it isn’t mine.”

“It is now,” El’s usually austere expression turns into a chiding glare. “I’ve shown you your happiest place. You didn’t want it. You said you wanted a world you could fix instead.”

Steve turned with an indignant look.

“Because I would’ve taken his Steve Harrington,” He explains. “See what happened here? We can’t even find the real Steve in this world!”

“The Steve Harrington you’re looking for would’ve ended this world,” El says, not willing to back down. “So you had to take his place before it happens.”

“And now we’re here,” Steve breathed out. The look of defeat painted all over him. “I’ve already stayed too long and indulged myself,” The thought of Billy brings forth a weak smile. “I don’t think I can turn back.”

“No reason for you to turn away. Unless if you want to break his heart.”

“Never,” Steve immediately blurts out. Then laughter bubbles out of him when a recent memory hit him. “Remember when I told you that it’s a bunch of bullcrap when you showed me what you saw in that world called my happiest place?”

El nods and Steve keeps his smile when his laughter dies down. But he lowered his head, stares instead at the floor that he did not have an idea what to put so it’s left as an abyss of black.

“I couldn’t believe it. Billy Hargrove raining kisses down on my face like I’m his world? Like, what’s up with that? That’s some kind of strangest shit.”

El giggles, remembering how Steve flipped out.

“I was like; Oh, shit! The Billy Hargrove I know won’t ever pull this type of thing! But then… these past few weeks. When I got to hang out with him. I realized, _Ah, shit._ How could I have judged? I didn’t know him then at all.”

“Now you do,” El supplied, and Steve graces her with a meek nod, his eyes still trained on the floor.

“I do,” Steve wetly says. “I’m not even surprised he’s kissing my forehead right now. Fucking sap.”

But El knows he is, and that he’s trying and failing not to cry over it.

“He needs to know the truth soon,” Is all she says, knows that Steve’s aware that they’ve been having a visitor lately who’s trying to get past the barriers she had put up. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“I know,” Steve muttered. El pointedly tried to ignore how broken he sounded. “He hates liars. So yeah, gotta get to it soon.”

_He’ll hate me._

Steve’s agonizing resonates so much El could feel it dig into her bones.

The overwhelming, crushing idea of abandonment from someone you found precious and crucial in your life.

El doesn’t know how to console Steve on this matter. She doesn’t want to mess up. She’s not too keen on giving comforting words.

She’d rather not accidentally give Steve more reason to hurt. Not when she’s already put too much on his platter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: AHHHHH! I’m so sorry for all the mistakes! But I didn’t bring my laptop with me and I’m only using my phone to post this so there’s definitely a bunch of typos (and I don’t have anyone to beta this so lemme just shovel my grave to hide AHHHHH.) 
> 
> But seriously! The comments are so sweet! thank you for all the support!! You all are the best! *wipes tears* 
> 
> Again, this is my second language but I’ll try my best to make sure this story will, uh, make sense. 
> 
> But otherwise I’m really, really thankful for the support. Thank you ya’ll!!!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is me basically trying and failing at science. :')) And, also, me doing a fix-it even though I hadn't watched season three and spoiled it for myself when I got in the Harringrove fandom YAY! Anyways, I've been silently binging fics here until one day this voice in my head told me 'Why don't we contribute to the fandom?' which has ultimately come to this. 
> 
> English isn't my first language so I apologize for any mistake. :')) But I hope you enjoy it (despite probably confusing the heck outta you cause I can be a vague little shit sometimes.)


End file.
